My Brother

Michayla Goyette
Professor Evers
Narrative Essay- Rough Draft
24 September, 2012

If I had to choose one thing that I've learned throughout my nineteen years here, I would point out how precious things are taken for granted every day. It could be as simple as figuring out something to do for the day or night; we don't ever think that the plans we have could be gone before we know it. This never occurred to me until I had to face reality and deal with the fact that my amazing older brother had passed away in November of last year. I never really faced a real, what we call `tragedy' until I heard what had happened on that day.

I had been having a great couple of months, feeling ...

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to have time to spend together and nothing could ever go wrong with our plans.

Friday morning I woke up in a great mood, I woke up super early and got ready to start my day without a care in the world. My sister was working, which meant it was only my niece and I alone at the house. A note was left on the counter that read `you guys need to do laundry and wash the dishes if you think you're going anywhere tonight. Also, if you take the car, put gas in it. Love, Cinda.' With that being said, we did some chores so that we could go out for the day, like we planned. We decided to make a huge breakfast and dance around the house with the music blasting, having a great time. We were talking about how great the day was going to be and how cool it was that my sister was going to let us use her car as long as we put gas in it. This mood didn't last for much longer.

Just as we began eating breakfast, we both were interrupted by at least six calls from my sister and mother. We were in ...

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God choose him? He was only thirty two; he had so many people that loved and cared about him that were willing to help him with his addiction, he was too young! My brother was into drugs which he began doing at age sixteen, which means he was doing them for half of his short lived life. We still needed to find a way to my house, and my sister was trying to get out of work, so she had her friend Kristen pick us up and drive us there. Kristen came to the door crying and that's when it hit me. This was not a joke, my brother died, he was gone. The fact that I was never going to see Bugga again broke my heart into a million little pieces that I couldn't pick up and put back together.

We ...

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My Brother. (2012, November 14). Retrieved June 7, 2020, from
"My Brother.", 14 Nov. 2012. Web. 7 Jun. 2020. <>
"My Brother." November 14, 2012. Accessed June 7, 2020.
"My Brother." November 14, 2012. Accessed June 7, 2020.
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Added: 11/14/2012 12:16:15 AM
Submitted By: mickmackx3
Category: Personal Writing
Type: Premium Paper
Words: 1717
Pages: 7

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